Prompt Response: A girl sat alone on a bench, her head bent and her long blonde hair all but completely obscuring her face. Her sapphire eyes gazed intensely at her lap, or rather, what lay there. With a deft motion, she turned a page, barely having appeared to move. As her eyes moved down the block of text, she was oblivious to the hot sun beating unrelentingly on her back; oblivious to the crowds of people passing her and moving as quickly as they could into shade.
Suddenly, a loud noise pierced the lethargy the sun produced. The girl’s wavy blonde hair shimmered, revealing subtle streaks of red, as she shifted positions and began to push her book into the canvas bag lying near her feet. She had not meant her slamming the book shut to be so audible, but then, it had not held what she was looking for. Smoothing out her sapphire dress, she stood with the air of one who has been sitting a long time, moaning softly at the numbness in her legs. She glanced around, squinting in the harsh light of the midday sun.
The heat, of which she had been so blissfully oblivious, hit her hard. She did not take heat well, and indeed began to feel slightly nauseous. That feeling, she knew, would intensify if she stayed out here longer, so she hastily looked for some building in which she could take refuge. Many were crowded with other people who, like her, were looking to get out of the heat. Still more were shoddy or dilapidated. Her eyes alit on only one that was anywhere near what she needed. Its aisles were nearly empty, its surfaces clean and gleaming. And, above all, as she neared it, the welcome hum of an air conditioner rose to meet her ears.
A small sign hung over the door, stating that the shop was called “Descending Angels,” whatever that meant. She was not a religious person, and angels were definitely not in her list of inexplicable things she believed in, but refuge was refuge. She pushed open the door to the tell-tale tinkle of a bell, yet as she glanced around she saw, not shelves of religious paraphernalia as she had expected, but small, egg shaped containers. As she waited for the shop owner she knew would have been alerted by her opening the door, she pulled one down to examine.
She surreptitiously replaced it, lest one was not meant to touch these things. Glancing up, she realized that the shop was indeed much larger and much fuller then it had seemed. Most were girls, though a few boys were scattered among the throngs. It was only when she heard a little girl demand that her mother buy her a “dolly” that she realized what was likely to be in those containers. ‘Dolls.’ She put as much contempt as she could upon the word in her mind. She hadn’t played with dolls since she had discovered books and learned how to read. Yet outside, the sun still fell in sweltering sheets, and she dared not leave the shop.
Her feet carried her between the isles, pausing ever now and again to appear to be shopping. Soon, she had traversed much of the shop, discovering that not only were there dolls, there was a wide array of clothing options for them. Her eyes alighted on a single dress and a feeling stole over her that she had not experienced since she was four. She longed, now, to own one of these dolls. Yet she shook the feeling off. Who needed dolls? She had books, and a large number of them. Why waste money on something that would sit and gather dust when there were new books to be purchased and school to be paid for? She resolutely turned from the outfits and her feet carried her past them, to an area of the shop she had not yet been.
Laughter and cheering rose to her ears even before she rounded a corner to wander down an aisle she had not yet traversed. This aisle was wider, and full of tables, around which were clustered groups of girls, almost all around her age. Carefully maneuvering through them, she saw what it was they were watching. But...it couldn’t be. On the “tables,” the “dolls” were moving. And without anyone appearing to move them! She watched with amazement as two “dolls” fought, cheering and moaning with the other spectators. She was completely enthralled, and felt a wave of disappointment wash over her as the fight ended. The crowd began to disperse, but she remained, staring blankly at the table. ‘Dolls can’t move...’ she told herself, ‘It just can’t happen. Dolls stay still unless there are hands moving them. They don’t move...’ Yet her arguments grew feebler and feebler, the evidence of her eyes winning out. She couldn’t convince herself that she hadn’t seen it, because she knew that she had.
“First time in here?” a kind voice murmured at her side. She barely restrained a shriek of surprise, for she had not been expecting anyone to talk to her. Then she noticed that no one was clustered around this particular table any more, and one person staring at it would be rather conspicuous. She glanced at the girl at her side and slowly nodded. The girl was her own age, with deep brown hair and warm chocolate eyes chocolate eyes. “Well,” the brown-haired girl said happily, “I’m Leia.” “Elizabeth,” was all she could think to say. “Everyone had to have had a first time to see an angel to be in here today. Oh,” Leia added, seeing the look of confusion on Elizabeth’s face, “These ‘dolls’ are called ‘angels,’ by the way. Anyways, I could show you around.” Elizabeth nodded once more, anything to solve the mystery of these “angels.”
For the next half hour, she trailed Leia like a shadow, listening attentively to her commentary and explanation. At one point, Leia commented on not having seen Elizabeth around Gaia before. Elizabeth replied by saying that she didn’t get out much, due to that much of her time was spent at home, reading, or else in school, attempting to be inconspicuous. Leia had nodded, and they had continued on. By the end of that half hour, Elizabeth thought she knew the basics. “So,” she began, addressing Leia as one would a teacher that you know will give you a test, so you tell them the answers before they get a chance, “These dolls are called angels. When put on a ‘Layer’ they are basically turned on. Then, using their mind, the ‘Player’ can control the angel and use it to fight other angels. There are also other pastimes often done by players, such as finding the perfect outfit for their angel.” Leia nodded, smiling at the simple summary to a complicated matter. “Well, do you want to purchase one?” she asked Elizabeth.
Elizabeth remembered with a start that money was required, and she did not have much. Indeed, as she followed Leia to the angels for sale, the price tag was hefty. Yet she knew she could not resist buying one and joining this world that was so different from her own. Looking dejected, she returned to Leia, her hands conspicuously vacant of an angel. “I don’t have the money,” she replied to Leia’s questioning gaze. “Is that it?” Leia asked, surprisingly unperturbed, “Why, I’ll help you buy one. How much do you need?” Elizabeth was stunned and opened her mouth to protest, but Leia interrupted her, “Well, what are friends for?” She pulled out her money and steered Elizabeth, first to the angel eggs, then to the cash register, not allowing her to protest. Handing over the full price, she held the egg for a moment, as if considering something. “I only have one condition,” she told Elizabeth after some consideration. Elizabeth felt her heart sink to the bottom of her shoes. “You have to come here as often as you can, so our angels can face each other!” Leia stated happily, pushing the egg toward Elizabeth who was nodding vacantly. Elizabeth’s face lit as she pulled the angel egg toward herself. “I got to go, see you tomorrow!” Leia called, already beginning to move toward the door. “Thank you!” Elizabeth called happily, just before the door closed behind Leia. She ran her fingers over the surface of the egg and her heart was light. Now, she had a hobby that brought her into the real world. Still beaming, she stepped outside into the world.
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